Sorry
by Infinity3
Summary: Some bonds go deeper than eyes can see, than words can describe, than the mind can comprehend, than even the heart can fathom. Bonds forged of trust, love, respect, and blood are seldom made, and even more seldom broken. Mokuba-centric soliloquy, set when


My first attempt at any sort of torture, because I was bored, and because I said so. Doesn't it suck? ^_^ Poor Mokuba, the worst torture is being used as a guinea pig for the writing style....  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He's staring at me. Staring into me. Staring through me. I'm so scared.... Seto, I wish you could hear me whimpering.....  
  
No. NO! Don't. Please, I take it back. I don't want you to hear me. Not now. Not ever. You're studying now, I know, and the metal of the shackle that chains you to the desk must be growing hot from the midday sun. Please, Seto, keep working. Work as hard as you can. Don't think about me. Drown everything out but your work; you're so close to advancing to the next level. Gozaburo seems proud of you. Please, please, make him proud, big brother. Make him happy.....  
  
He's still staring at me. His eyes are brown. Brown with a little black, and very shiny, like a beetle's carapace. I know what carapace means, Seto. It means a shell; I looked it up in the dictionary. Are you proud of me? It's an awfully hard word for an 8 year old to know, I think. They're shiny and hard, just like a shell, and they're smiling at me.  
  
Eyes can't smile, can they, Seto? But I can see them smiling in the way they sparkle. They don't sparkle like yours do when I hug you, Seto, or when I tell you how much I love you. They look.... mean. It makes what looks like such a nice thing in some people look horrible when he does it. He's not happy just because he's happy; he's happy because something bad is happening.  
  
That's me. Seto, please work just as hard as you can. Listen to your pen scratch while it writes, and don't listen to me while I'm crying....  
  
I don't want you to hear me. Neither does he.  
  
He has a whip in his hand. It's big and thick, with a little leather loop at the end, held together with a metal stud. He says it's called a riding crop. If you use that when you ride, I don't think I ever want to learn how to ride a horse. It's so long....  
  
The stud is cold. The stud is cold, but the leather isn't, and I wonder if he stuck it into the freezer for a few hours. I can feel the stud slide across my bare skin, the edge of the leather just touching me as he runs it over my chest and stomach and neck. It sort of tickles, but I don't move, and I'm not smiling. He's smiling though, with his eyes, and they keep staring at me. He's staring and staring, and I just can't help but stare back, even though I know I should be running.....  
  
But I don't.  
  
I won't, either. Not now, and not ever, because he's got me by the throat, even if he isn't touching me. He's got me, and I can hardly breathe it feels like, even though I can feel my chest heaving as I cry silent tears. I know that I'm breathing, because I'm gasping for air and holding my breath while the whip is on me. Then I start gasping again, just as hard as before. My lungs hurt, and so do my ribs. So does my heart.  
  
He's got a knife now, Seto. He likes to play with it, I think. He's playing with it now, and admiring the way the sun shines off of the clean blade, just as thoughtful as you get when you're playing chess. I'm a good chess player; you taught me all you knew about it. But he's got me in a checkmate, even though I don't feel like a king at all, and I don't know what to do, even though I know that I just can't win this game....  
  
He's through playing with it that way. Now, he's playing a different game with it. He's running the tip of it across my skin, and it's just barely touching me. It's cold too, and it sort of hurts. He's tracing the curves just under my collarbones, and making a straight line right down to my navel. Then it goes up and counts my ribs, one by one, sliding from the outside to the inside until they reach the middle of my chest. Now he's at the ribs where I know my lungs are, and I'm scared that he'll make a mistake and cut me open. His hands are steady, I know, because he's done this before and it's always the same; so close to disaster, but never getting there.  
  
Now his eyes are laughing. They're not making a sound. Can eyes laugh, Seto?  
  
My skin is pale, just like yours, because I don't get into the sun as often as I should. I don't get out long enough when I do, either. My skin is almost white.  
  
Now it's red.  
  
I watch the way the blood trickles from the cuts. Ever so slowly, a ruby red so deep and dark that it's almost black. It flows slowly-- just a little of it, because they're so shallow-- and stains my skin. Watching hurts almost as much as being cut, but I just can't look away. It feels like it has some sort of.... some sort of.... what is the word that you use again, Seto? When something means something else?  
  
Oh, yeah. Symbolism.  
  
He likes to watch me bleed, too. His eyes are even brighter than they were before. He knows just how to cut me, and never leave a scar. The cuts heal fast, Seto. They're gone in a day. That's why I always take a nap in the afternoon; not because I'm tired, even though I am. It's so I don't move around and open the cuts up again, so they have time and energy to heal.  
  
He's licking the blood away, now. There's a strange look in his eyes, and I don't know what, but it's scaring me more then ever as he stares at me. I can still see it, even though the tears always blur my vision. His tongue is rough, and warm, and wet, and very gentle. It's like a mama cat licking her kittens clean, but he's a boy, not a girl, and I'm not a kitten. I don't think he does it because he loves me, either. I've seen your eyes when I tell you that I love you, Seto, and they don't look like his. Not really. His look sort of like that, but sort of different, too. I don't understand, and I'd like to ask you, because I think that you might understand.  
  
I never will.  
  
I never will ask you, Seto. I never will ask you, because that would mean that I have to tell you, and he doesn't want that. He told me not to tell you anything, or he would start to beat you. Sort of like he's doing to me, only worse. Lots worse. That's what he says, and I believe him. I stay quiet.  
  
I don't want you to get hurt, Seto. I want to protect you, like you always protect me.  
  
You're so strong and smart. I wish I could be like you, Seto, and figure out a way to keep him from doing this to me, while not letting him start doing it to you, too. I wish I were as smart as you, Seto, so I could figure everything out for us.  
  
Now he's handing me my shirt back, and standing up to go put his things away. He has to go get you your lunch. I walk into the bathroom, and start cleaning myself and my cuts and bruises off, because I know that spit is septic, and I've got a lot of his spit on me. I know what septic means, too. I learned how to clean myself up on my own, without anybody else's help. I like it that way, because I'm independent. That's a hard word for 8 year olds too, isn't it?  
  
Now I'm going into our room and laying down on my bed. You smile at me, and I smile back. My eyes and smile are bright as ever. You make everything right, Seto. When I know that you're here, ready to protect me, you make everything seem better. You always have, and I don't know how you do it, but I hope that I can do it someday, too. Will you teach me?  
  
Seto, you've always been there for me. I wish that I'd always been here for you, too. You've always been here for me, to protect me, to care for me, to confide in me, to tell me that everything will be okay. You tell me everything, Seto; you never keep secrets from me.  
  
I snuggle deeper into my pillow to hide the silent tears that prickle at my eyes. I wish I were that loyal and faithful to you. I wish I were as perfect as you, Seto, because you always seem to know what to say and do, somehow. I haven't told you everything, like you tell me. I keep what Gozaburo does to me a secret, because he doesn't want me to tell you.  
  
I don't want to tell you either.  
  
I just don't want you to get hurt, Seto. I know how tired you always seem at night, when you collapse into bed. Sometimes you don't fall asleep right away. I never do either; I stay up until you're asleep, to make sure you're alright. And sometimes, I'm awake to see you jerk out of some nightmare, your entire body twisting with the force of removing you from whatever horrors were stalking you in your slumber. You never cry out. You never want to wake me, I guess. So I stay in bed, even though I really want to go comfort you. I don't want you to worry about me more than you do.  
  
You worry so much, Seto. It isn't good for you.  
  
I wish I could take away those worries. I wish I could set you free from this horrible life. I wish I could kill myself, so that you didn't have anybody to look over, and could run away. I wish that I'd never been born, so that you could have been adopted by the first man who had asked about you. He looked so nice, Seto, with sandy brown hair and sparkling green eyes. You could have been so happy.....  
  
You threw it all away for me, Seto. I love you for that, more than you could imagine, but I hate you for it, too. I hate you for not giving yourself that chance to rise to the stars, because I know that you could be great, if you only got a chance. Why can't you just leave me behind? If you're happy, I wouldn't mind being alone at all....  
  
But you're not happy, and you didn't take that chance. How can I hate you? I feel so dirty just thinking about it. Like I don't appreciate you enough. I know that I don't. You've given up so much for me....  
  
And there's not a thing I've done to repay you. You've done so much for me, and what do I do for you? I burden you down, I make you worry, I've stuck you with an evil man for a father, I make you get hurt protecting me, I don't put all my faith in you, like the way you trust me completely. I even think of hating you! I don't think I'll ever be worthy of being your brother, or ever come close to repairing all the damage I've done....  
  
I love you, Seto, and I'm sorry..... For everything...... 


End file.
